


As The Seasons Change

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Oblivious Castiel, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: (art by dmsilvis/the Reverse Prompt Challenge)Some mail left in the mailbox of Cas' new apartment for the former occupant leads to friends, family, and so much more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is for the [Reverse Prompt Challenge](https://reverseprompts.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Thank you to dmsilvis for cheerleading me along the way!

**Winter**

Cas moves into his studio apartment on a crisp winter's morning, looking forward to a new start. He winces at the brightness of the sun as he slams the trunk of his battered Continental, adjusting the last of his boxes in his arms into a better grip so it won't fall.

Cas makes his way into the building, tucking the box half-under his chin so he can check his mailbox and sighing immediately for the stack of mail he'll have to send on knowing there can't be anything for him yet. After three missed attempts because he can't see the button, Cas steps into the elevator and sags against its wall in relief. Drinks with his cousin Gabriel have always led to disastrous things; Cas should have known better than to agree to meet him the night before moving home.

The apartment door is kicked closed behind him, that final box dropped on to the smallest pile. Cas rummages through another box marked _bathroom_ in search of some Advil. He gulps back half a bottle of water to swallow them with then throws himself down on the couch, stretching out with the intention of sleeping off his hangover.

When he wakes, Cas cracks his eyes open to glare at all the boxes that need unpacking, covering his face with his arms so he doesn't have to look. His head feels less in danger of exploding but his stomach is now protesting about a lack of food. Since he's new to the neighborhood he's got no idea what's on offer as he peers out the window wondering which direction to head in. Cas glances up at the sun with less malice than a few hours earlier, unzipping his nearest sports bag to find something to wear.

When he steps on to the street Cas tells himself he'll find a grocery store and cook something, but sags in relief when instead he finds a diner just a block away. He drops into a corner booth and barely resists ordering half the menu, settling for a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and onion rings that he washes back with copious cups of coffee. He spends a little time looking out the window getting the bearings of what is on his doorstep, wondering if there are any of his new neighbors passing by. Once he's feeling human again Cas walks until he finds a small supermarket, loading up with enough groceries to keep him going for the next few days.

Cas' boxes are waiting for him. He glowers at them again wishing they would unpack themselves, ignoring them altogether to instead slot his groceries away and scoop up the stack of mail. He's arranged for all of his to be forwarded here and is bewildered why the previous occupant hasn't done the same. Cas picks up the first comic book careful not to crease its packaging, not knowing much about comics aside from that when opened they lose value, which seems absurd to him. Whoever this _Dean Winchester_ is can't be that much of a fan of all these superheroes if he hasn't bothered to forward these last six editions to his new home.

As well as the comic books, there is what feels to be a store card from the store Cas has just been to, and various other letters that he's sure are junk mail. But the final one in the pile suggests this _Dean_ is power of attorney for a J. Winchester, and Cas' thoughts of writing _not known at this address_ across the envelopes to post back are shoved to one side. He scrolls through his cell for the number of his new landlord, pressing it to his ear and pinching over his eyes as he waits for the call to connect.

***

Cas doesn't know what to make of the house when he pulls up in front of it, noting the dilapidated state of some of it as well as half-finished repairs he assumes are in progress for the various pots and tools still scattered around. He curses under his breath that he's even volunteered to bring this mail to the former occupant of his apartment, giving in to a sob story from the landlord about being too busy, and this _Dean Winchester_ going through something difficult.

Cas glances over the house for a good few minutes before convincing himself to even get out of the car. He grits his teeth, tucking the mail under his arm as he marches up the steps on to a porch that he hopes is on the repair list, then wraps his knuckles on the door.

Somebody has to be home. There is a huge monster of a car on the drive that obviously sees far more love than this house does. Cas curses himself again for not just shoving the mail in the mailbox, stopped from stomping away to do just that when he hears a muffled sound from inside.

He waits in fascination for the constant stream of cursing he can hear that accompanies a thunking sound, still managing to jump back in alarm as the door swings open. Surprised green eyes flare wide at him for a second before the person they belong to is letting out an undignified yelp. Cas rushes forward to catch him before he ends up in a heap on the floor.

"Damn crutches," the man says as he glares at the crutches now strewn at their feet. Cas assumes this must be the Dean whose mail he is delivering, and starts an internal conversation with himself about why it's important to be _generous_. Clearly, this _Dean_ has a very good reason for not picking up his mail.

"Yes," Cas says, taking in the almost-full leg cast that is completely covered in scribbles and attempts at art.

"Uh. Thanks, man," Dean says as he rights himself, clutching to the door handle for support as Cas retrieves and passes him his crutches. "Can I help you with something?"

"I moved into your old apartment," Cas tells him, determined to keep looking him in the eye. Dean is in a pair of sweatpants that have had one leg hacked off presumably for his cast, an old ACDC t-shirt that Cas assumes must have once been black, and the fluffiest pair of blue slipper socks Cas thinks he's ever seen.

"Oh?"

"You have not forwarded your mail."

Dean's eyes drop to the letters Cas is now holding out, flaring wide in realization. "Dammit."

There is an awkward tussle when Dean tries to take the letters and almost ends up falling again. Cas holds on to the laughter threatening to erupt for Dean seeming so uncoordinated with his crutches, reaching out to hold him upright and dropping the mail down on a windowsill.

"What did you do?"

"Fell off a ladder," Dean replies, his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Didn't realize how wet the ground actually was back there. Woke up face first in a puddle with my brother's mutt of a dog trying to nudge me up."

Cas smiles for the image that creates and tells himself he should be polite and leave. "I see."

"Next thing I know I'm being manhandled into my own damn car and driven to the hospital," Dean adds, leaning heavier on his crutches in clear discomfort.

"I assume any further restorations will have to wait."

"This place used to be amazing," Dean says, his voice becoming wistful and enough to make Cas want to hear more.

"Oh?"

"This was my family home. Grew up here for a bit 'till Mom died. Uncle got custody of me and Sam — my brother. Came back when dad died a few months back and found it like _this_. Hadn't been home in a while."

There are numerous stories to unpack from Dean's words that Cas barely restrains himself from asking. Dean seems aware of it, looking even more embarrassed.

"And I just told a complete stranger my life story. Uh, sorry… I didn't get your name?"

"Castiel. Cas."

Dean awkwardly raises a hand to shake it still leaning on his crutch. "Well, Cas. Thanks for bringing my mail. I'll be sure to get on to getting that all diverted."

Cas can't help looking at the stack of mail already accumulating by the door, along with the paint pots, tubs of plaster, lengths of wood, and even an old kitchen sink that are all here in the entrance of the house.

"Well. There is no hurry. I can arrange for any further mail to be sent, or bring it myself."

"You don't have to do that."

"No, I don't," Cas agrees, smiling for the slight blush now on Dean's cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. "But since I am new to the neighborhood, I suppose it gives me a good reason to get to know the area better."

"You just moved here?" Dean asks, adjusting on his crutches and wincing. Cas has the urge to ask him to sit down.

"I did. I moved for work," Cas says, his hands flaring unconsciously when Dean wobbles.

"Doing what?"

"I give my first class at the university on Monday morning. I assume to an empty lecture hall since it's so early."

Dean smiles at that, the slight suspicion that had been on his face for having a complete stranger showing up at his home dropping altogether. "Well. I hope you get _some_  students showing up at least. Seems a waste of your time getting out of bed if no one does."

Cas nods, increasingly aware of how much Dean is struggling. He is in obvious pain, continuously adjusting on his good leg, not seeming able to get a comfortable spot. "Well. Unless there is anything you need, I should leave you. I am sure you should be resting"

"All I do is _rest_ ," Dean grumbles, but also nods in what Cas thinks is agreement. "Thanks for dropping stuff off for me, Cas."

Cas smiles and nods, turning back to his car. He gets almost to the door of it when Dean calls out to him.

"Hey, Cas. The door in the bedroom closet needs the hinges greasing over every once in a while. Otherwise, they get stuck, and you won't be able to get a single thing out. Not without taking the whole door off, anyway."

Cas turns back and nods in thanks. "I will remember."

"And the guy opposite cooks the best damn lasagne I've ever eaten. Get yourself invited over. Benny's a good guy."

Cas laughs, hoping he'll come to be neighborly, instead of _shy_ as Meg always accuses him of being. "Okay. I will."

Cas doesn't know why he's still standing here, or why he and Dean are staring at each other without saying a word. He wants to say something else or move, but doesn't seem to be able to do either.

"Hey, Cas," Dean calls out again as Cas is about to start turning away once more. "Don't suppose you feel like coffee?"

He could leave, Cas thinks, climb into his car and go back to his apartment, unpack the last of his boxes and get used to being in his new home. Or, he could stay here, with this man whose story he is sure he'll find intriguing. Who is also, Cas thinks, pretty cute.

Cas smiles, making his way back up the steps.

***


	2. Chapter 2

**Spring**

"Look, Cas, I can _move_."

Cas walks into Dean's living room to find him gleefully trying to bend his leg, as his brother Sam looks on in half amusement and half exasperation.

"Yeah, but you still need physical therapy. And not to be climbing any ladders anytime soon," Sam tells him, clasping Cas on the shoulder as he passes gesturing to say he'll make more coffee. Cas laughs as Dean pulls a face after him and sits on the end of the couch, watching Dean as he prods at his knee muttering about _muscle loss_.

"Does it feel good to finally have the cast off?"

"Awesome," Dean insists, raising and inspecting his leg.

"Though Sam is right; you will need to be careful," Cas adds, his hands twitching instinctively when he sees Dean wince.

"Not you too, Cas," Dean whines, pretending to pout.

Cas loves that pout. He thinks he's been coming here to Dean's at least once a week ever since delivering that first lot of mail and has practically been accepted as a part of the family. It was unexpected; Cas freely admits it's not the easiest thing for him to make friends. But he and Dean have been bickering and finishing each other's sentences since that very first day, and every conversation he's had with Dean, Sam, and everyone else he's met by proxy has come more naturally to him than he's ever experienced. That pout playing on Cas' mind many an evening when he's finally gone home more than any one of those conversations usually would.

It had taken him approximately three visits to let the idea that he finds Dean attractive have a little free room in his head. He's at the stage now when it's not the only thing he thinks about, so Cas thinks he's making progress with this painful _crush_. There have been a few weeks when he's seen Dean in everything around him. At the back of his lecture hall when he's trying to teach his students. Sitting on a park bench as he goes for a run. Waiting in line at the coffee shop he likes to go to on the way to work. Though the fact that Dean's been talking about all the things he plans on doing once his cast comes off means Cas really _might_ start seeing him everywhere. It's both a blessing and a curse; keeping his feelings mostly under wraps when Dean isn't around is fairly easy. If he starts appearing everywhere he looks that might not be possible.

Cas never meant to feel like this again when he came here, adamant that relationships were not for him — not now, anyway, not when he's supposed to be focusing on his work in a university where he's hoping to one day get tenure. Another person to share his life with sounds like a wonderful thing, but now really isn't the time. Only, with every moment he spends with Dean, and every message he sends him, Cas finds himself melting, and is rarely without a smile. Dean is the most adorable tease, flirting and affectionate, and even his arguments annoyingly endearing. Cas doesn't think he stood a chance from the moment he stepped on to Dean's porch, and it's impossible to pretend his heart isn't skipping for the way Dean is looking at him now.

"Here you go, Cas."

Cas is interrupted from his spiraling thoughts and staring back at Dean for the coffee Sam pushes into his hand.

"Thank you."

"How was class this morning?" Sam asks as he sinks into the chair opposite, dropping his head back with a sigh.

"It was good. Many intriguing theories about theology. Only one or two of them too outlandish to be plausible."

"Now I got my leg back, I might just come see you in this lecture hall of yours," Dean says, swinging his leg around with his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth in concentration as he carefully nudges his foot against Cas' leg.

Cas ignores the slight ringing in his ears that he's come to associate with trying to avoid thinking Dean is _cute_ , or _sweet_ , or far more inappropriate things, extending his hand to gently squeeze his shin. "There are steps."

"I'll sit at the back."

"You'll distract me."

"Damn right I will," Dean agrees with a wink that half-freezes Cas' brain.

It doesn't help that Sam clears his throat to get their attention, and when Cas turns to look he's grinning at them both. Cas tries to concentrate on sipping at his coffee tempted not to say another word.

"Well. Whatever you decide to do, if it involves sitting still for a while, it's a good idea," Sam says with a private smile that isn't private at all for the way he keeps looking at them in insinuation.

" _Sitting_ ," Dean mocks, slapping the lid of his laptop on the table to his side. "What do you think I've been doing these long twelve weeks I've had that damn cast on?"

"Caught up on all your paperwork that you said you've been behind on forever?" Sam suggests, unfazed by Dean's outburst.

Cas understands his frustration completely. Dean has his own business in home repair and construction; his injury has set him back months. And while Dean has said he has some loyal clients plus enough of a cushion financially not to worry too much, being stuck unable to do anything must be hell. Cas has even arrived to find Dean doing some decorating, catching him off guard with a paintbrush or drill in hand. Dean's sheepish look for being caught out as he'd handed over the drill last time Cas thinks of whenever he's in need of a smile. He clears his throat, aware that he's smiling now, trying to keep his expression neutral as they talk.

"I'm so up to date with paperwork I even started designing new business cards for something to do," Dean retorts, reaching for the laptop as though he's about to show them then changing his mind.

"Yeah, well. So long as I don't come round here to find you up a ladder again."

Dean darts a discreet look at Cas asking him to keep his secret from Sam, to which Cas gives an equally discreet nod back.

"Cas is taking me to a garden center sometime next week," Dean says to change the subject, draining the last coffee from his mug. "Thinking about trying to do something with the yard."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Cas here is far more green-fingered than either of us."

"I had a yard back home," Cas replies, hoping Dean isn't expecting anything spectacular, and that helping him in the yard won't lead to him wistfully thinking of his own yard.

The studio apartment is everything he needs. Since he's only contracted at the university for a year and won't hear about tenure any time soon, Cas only wanted a bolthole instead of anything resembling a proper home. The apartment has enough light in for him to work when he needs to and is well-located for everything he needs. There is enough space for the occasional session of yoga he indulges in when he wants to gather his thoughts. And because there is so little room cleaning is kept to a minimum. Though watching Dean's home slowly transform even if he is repairing and renovating only the things he can do that won't put strain on his leg — and those that _will_ when he thinks he can get away with it — makes Cas wish he'd put more thought into making himself a proper home.

"I tell you, Sammy. Cas can just look at some weed or something out in that _mess_ and tell you what it's called, where it'll grow, how to kill it."

"We grew our own vegetables when I was growing up. My grandparents had a beautiful yard that I spent many an hour in."

Cas refuses to get wistful or think about the family he misses, and those that he can't; Gabriel, for example, there is no point missing since he calls pretty much every day.

"Didn't Bobby grow some stuff?" Sam asks.

"Potatoes. Maybe some herbs. Not much."

"You should be able to grow almost anything you want. You have good soil," Cas says, reaching to push his cup on the table. Dean takes it from his hand so he doesn't have to stretch.

"Hear that, Sammy? I got good soil."

"Keep an eye on him for me, Cas," Sam says, eyes lingering on Dean in reprimand for a few pointed seconds before turning to him. "I don't want him out there doing anything before he's ready."

"I broke my leg. I didn't become decrepit or something."

"Your leg needs time to mend."

"Yeah. It's _been_ mending in that cast, that's the whole _point_."

Cas sinks back into the couch smiling to himself as Dean and Sam bicker, ignoring the feeling he gets that he's already home.

***

Cas reaches out to stop their cart veering off for the third time since they arrived in the garden center, smiling at Dean's look of reproach.

"I had it under control," Dean tells him, adjusting his grip on the cart handle. Though from the way he is limping Cas knows he's lying.

To avoid a _discussion_ about Dean pushing himself too hard too soon, Cas keeps his hand rested on the end of the bar, his grip loose but ready in case he needs to steer.

"These would be good to start with," Cas says to change the subject as he points to some hardy green plants. He has several ideas in mind after realizing Dean was serious when he said he didn't have a clue about gardening. They had walked around the yard after two difficult days of clearing it, with Dean proving he truly didn't know the difference between a weed and a flower.

Those two days of clearing are probably a major contributing factor to how hard Dean is limping now. Cas feels guilty for it, even if it's out of his control. Sam's lecture over the phone that had been loud enough for Cas to hear word for word Dean had rolled his eyes at. The only concession Dean will make that he is _suffering_ is that he let Cas drive his precious Impala. Cas is sure he's never felt so intimidated driving in his life.

"Whatever you say," Dean says, nodding for him to lower two of the plants into the cart. They have already chosen enough seeds to make the foundations of an impressive herb garden, as well as some easy to maintain flowers that will be quick to plant in the beds. Dean's yard is a good size, enough to make Cas have minor yard envy. Though with the amount of time he seems to be spending at Dean's of late there really is no need.

"Do you have any preference?"

"I just want it to look lived in, you know?"

"You want your yard to appear as though someone resides there? Behind your house?"

"Smart-ass," Dean snorts back at him, hitting Cas' arm with the back of his hand. "And anyway. I figured, since you're the one offering to do this with me, you should have a say. And you know what you're doing. Me? I'm clueless."

"I wouldn't say _clueless_."

"Yeah, Cas. You would. And you'd be _right_."

Cas smiles and points to another aisle for them to walk down, continuing to guide the cart as they go. "Perhaps some terra cotta pots for the decking."

"Whatever you say."

"Are you insisting of having no input in this?" Cas asks, glancing over and catching the tail end of Dean wincing. "Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Come with me."

"But—"

"Do not make me carry you," Cas adds, as stern as he can make it when Dean turns to protest. It doesn't quite have the desired reaction of Dean admitting defeat and saying that he's hurting, but his eyes flaring wide and him licking his lips does momentarily stop Cas in his tracks.

They stare at one another as they keep finding themselves doing when they forget how to speak, and it takes Cas all the strength he has to look away. He nods in the direction of the cafe that is attached to the center.

"Wait for me there."

"I need to pay for all this."

"I can do it."

"I can do it. Dude, you're not paying for my _stuff_."

"I never said I was," Cas retorts, holding his hand out. He's half-tempted to reach into the back pocket where he knows Dean keeps his wallet but thinks that might be a step too far.

"Seriously, Cas? You gonna wrap me in one of those grow bags or something to stop me moving around?"

"If that is what it takes for you to stop straining your leg, yes."

"Cas—"

"If you will wait for me in the cafe, then I will ask Benny to prepare an extra dish of his lasagne. I will bring it to yours…"

"Friday?" Dean says, his voice full of hope, which Cas struggles not to grin too hard for.

"Friday," Cas agrees, wrapping his fingers around the bank card now resting in his palm. "I will even bring that craft beer that you were coveting at the farmers' market on Sunday."

"I was not _coveting_ —"

 _"Dean_ —"

"Alright. _Alright_ ," Dean says, his hands up in defeat. "You win. I'm going. And you're on; I've not had Benny's lasagne in _months_."

Cas smiles in triumph, nodding towards the cafe again and grabbing the cart when it threatens to veer off when Dean stumbles.

"Are you okay?" Cas asks, resting his hand on Dean's back as he gets his balance. "Should I walk you over?"

Dean's glare for him is vicious, but he accompanies it with an affectionate grab at Cas' jaw muttering _peach fuzz_ at him before walking away, reminding Cas he hasn't shaved. Cas watches him walk, making his way to the checkout as he keeps an eye on the way Dean is limping. He relaxes when Dean lowers himself into the first free chair he comes across, resting his elbows on the table with an obvious groan of relief. Cas pays for Dean's things, dropping his bank card on the table and ignoring Dean's protest when he goes up to order.

"Cas. I should be buying _you_ lunch for doing all this. Damn, that looks good," Dean adds when Cas slides a thick slice of apple pie in front of him along with a mug of coffee.

"Next time."

"Damn right," Dean agrees, waving for Cas to hurry up and sit. "I'm taking you to that fancy burger place you haven't tried yet."

"Will we be buying more items for your yard?"

"Nope. I'm just taking you. Just 'cos," Dean replies, winking at him before scooping up another bite of his pie. Cas barely trusts himself not to answer with something inappropriate so does the same.

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Summer**

He will not be distracted. Cas pulls at the collar of his t-shirt already too hot from the sweltering heat of the lecture theatre, pretending he isn't the slightest bit put off working by the presence of Dean.

Dean is sat at the back of the hall, though since it is far smaller than the one Cas is used to lecturing in he's less than six feet away. Dean is sprawled out across three seats, calling for Cas' attention despite being perfectly quiet. They're only jean shorts, and it's only a black t-shirt, yet Dean might as well be sat there naked instead of wearing any clothes for hard it is for Cas to keep talking. And the way he keeps smiling at him with what Cas is sure is pride is not helping the situation either.

There are twelve students who have taken on additional summer classes to improve their grades. He has a mix of the students he is familiar with plus three others he doesn't recognize. They are all doing their best considering the heat outside, the cramped space of the room, and the dullness of the subject they are working on. Cas tries to focus on the monotony of the words on the page he's reading from and not think about anything else. This _crush_ of his has only gotten worse, not helped at all by how _sweet_ Dean has been with him over the past few weeks.

Cas' family have always been _bothersome_ , treating him like he is a thorn in their side. Nothing he has ever achieved in his life has been up to their standards, and the thought of him doing something for himself purely because it makes him _happy_ is beyond any of their understanding. That he's come _here_  to do just that was met with the same response from his parents he would expect if he'd been found guilty of murder. It is part of the reason that he took the first apartment he laid eyes on but is so thankful that he did because it led him to Dean. Dean, who has been increasingly affectionate with him ever since they'd got drunk one night when Cas had been upset by a phone call from his dad.

Dean, who is currently grinning at him, looking like he's having the time of his life. Cas tries to clear the dryness from his throat with a gulp of water, wafting the hem of his t-shirt trying to get some air.

Dean's eyes narrow on the movement, suddenly leaning forward with his elbows digging into his thighs, staring at Cas' shirt. He tugs it down quickly, cursing under his breath for choosing one that is so short. He's thankful that a student near the front has a question for it giving him something else to do than think about Dean's reaction. Willing the hands on the clock behind his head to spin a little faster.

After the class is finished and Dean has helped him gather up the papers strewn around the room, they step outside with Cas immediately turning his face to the sun in relief.

"I have questions," Dean says as he slips on his shades, stretching out the stiffness in his shoulders.

"About the lecture?"

"No. About _that_."

Cas laughs, pulling away and grabbing Dean's hand at the same time as Dean jabs a finger in his side. "What?"

"You didn't tell me you had a _tattoo_ , Cas," Dean says in reproach, looking at him over the rim of his shades.

"It has never been a subject that came up."

"Well. It's coming up _now_. I wanna see."

"Here? In the university parking lot?"

"I'm tempted," Dean says, looking at him in consideration.

Cas quickly ducks around to his side of the car trying to hide his blushes, smiling when they both climb in. "Perhaps later."

"And how come you put _jeans_ on in this weather?" Dean adds, cranking down the windows as he fires up the engine. "How didn't you melt back there?"

"I wasn't sure what would be appropriate to wear for a summer lecture."

"So you're telling me it could've been booty shorts and flip-flops?"

"Perhaps the flip-flops."

Dean turns to grin at him, only looking back quickly to navigate a traffic light. "Probably for the best. You had the whole class drooling anyway just wearing _that_."

Cas has no idea what Dean is saying nor how he expects him to respond. He shifts in discomfort, looking at Dean again when he squeezes his thigh.

"You okay, Cas?"

"Yes. I am just glad that there are no more lectures until after the weekend."

"You gonna make me wait 'till we get to Sam's pool on Saturday before I see that tattoo of yours?" Dean asks, biting down on his bottom lip.

Cas tries not to stare, clearing his throat before he can answer. "Are we still having dinner this evening?"

"You bet. I made quiche. Even got some of your _kale_ to make a salad."

"Then. Perhaps I can show you tonight."

It sounds far more flirtatious than Cas had intended, and for a minute he thinks he's gone too far. The car stutters as Dean apparently misses the pedal, which Cas has never known him to do. Dean clears his throat in embarrassment and turns his focus back to the road.

"Am I gonna need to find you some stripper music for that, or something?" he says, a teasing grin on his face when Cas is brave enough to look.

The awkward moment has passed. Cas lets out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, resting his elbow on the open window.

"Perhaps."

***

Dean is already opening his front door before Cas has even put his foot on the first step up to the porch. He's vibrating with excitement greeting Cas with a huge grin, reaching out to squeeze his arm and nodding his head towards the house.

"Got something to show you, Cas."

"Have those flowers not taken root?" Cas asks as they make their way around the back of the house.

"What? No. No; everything you helped me plant is perfect, Cas. Least, was when I last looked."

"Which was when?" Cas says, narrowing his eyes. He's ready to repeat his lecture about the importance of watering when something unfamiliar in Dean's yard catches his eye. "What's that?"

"Put it together this morning," Dean says. Cas is sure he's trying to keep his voice neutral but it isn't working. "And by the way? I go out every damn morning like you told me to, making sure everything's not all dried out. I was watering the _flowers_ yesterday when I saw her."

"Who?"

Dean nudges his arm instead of answering, beckoning for Cas to follow. It isn't quite a shed, looking more like a good-sized chicken coop. Though when Cas gets nearer he can see why Dean's so excited, his heart melting for the joy on his face. Inside is a fat calico cat snoozing on her back in the corner, looking as though she hasn't a care in the world. She clearly does, looking ready to give birth any day now. But from the expression on her face and the soft chirrup she gives when Dean leans over to stroke her, she's more than happy where she is.

"I was out here minding my business still half-asleep when I hear this rustling sound down near the end," Dean says, waving towards the bottom of the yard. "Found this sweet girl with something trapped around her paw. Took her down to the vet's surgery Sam uses for his mutt and had her checked over. I'm gonna keep one — and this girl, obviously — but do you know anyone who wants a kitten?"

Cas crouches down extending his hand slowly hoping not to startle the cat, smiling in delight when she nudges her head against his palm. "She's friendly."

"Yeah. She is. She even let me give her a bath yesterday. Fur was all matted and filthy-looking. Vet said we need to be careful 'cos of fleas and worms if she's a stray, but because she's pregnant I'm gonna keep her safe here until she has her babies then get her de-fleaed and everything. Let her in the house when she's ready."

Yesterday was the first time Dean has ever made an excuse for why he couldn't see Cas. Cas spent most of the night tossing and turning with worry, imagining everything from Dean working too hard to have time for anything else, to Dean going on a date. The latter has put him in a cold sweat three times since he allowed the thought into his head, and Cas has been furious with himself on each occasion for reacting like Dean is _his_. Though he won't pretend he isn't almost overwhelmed with relief to find the reason for Dean's lack of messages yesterday was because of this _cat_. And he can't hide just how utterly charmed he is by watching Dean fuss over his new charge.

"Are you sure she is a stray?" Cas asks as the cat stretches enough for him to gently stroke her tummy.

"Well. Given the state she was in, and the fact there's no microchip in her, looks that way. We've got her on these antibiotics for her paw, but even those I need to be careful with because of the kittens."

Cas looks at the slightly swollen back paw that is red raw from where she has probably been licking the wound, sure he might melt for just how much trouble Dean is going to.

"I had no idea you liked cats," he says, the two of them resting their elbows on the edge of the enclosure Dean's made.

"Yeah, well. _You_ talk about them a lot. So I figured, maybe you'd wanna help me with all these kittens. Vet thinks she's got six in there."

"She looks as though she might give birth any day soon," Cas says, giving the cat another glance over.

"So maybe you should stick around a little more, huh?" Dean replies, nudging against his arm. His smile is filled with hope, Cas is sure it is.

"Of course."

Cas holds a hand out for Dean as he stands, an unconscious reaction given how much of the time he's known Dean has involved him having an injured leg. Dean takes his hand anyway and squeezes, winking as he nods for them to go inside.

"You gonna name her, Cas?"

"She is technically your cat."

"Well. If you're _helping_ me and all, I'd say she's _our_ cat."

Cas smiles at that, ducking through the door Dean is holding open for him and following him through to the kitchen where he pours them both a tall glass of iced tea. "Have you thought of any names for her that you might like?"

"Well. _Maybe_. But if you wanted to—"

"I will name the kitten."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean says, leaning back on the counter and watching him with a teasing smile. "What?"

"I will know when I meet them."

Dean finds this amusing, Cas thinks, for the way his eyes light up and his smile just gets wider. "Well, okay then, Cas."

"And the cat?"

"I think Oracle."

"Oracle?" Cas asks, shaking his head at the unfamiliar name. From the look on Dean's face, it's supposed to mean something, but he's currently clueless as to what.

"Yeah. Oracle. From Batman."

"Batman."

"Yeah," Dean says, beginning to sound incredulous, "as in Barbara Gordon. In the comics. I made you read them."

"I see."

Cas doesn't see. When he read those comics all he saw was Dean's excitement and enthusiasm; far more interesting than what was happening on the page. That, and how closely Dean had been sat to him so they could read the comic books together.

"In any case," Dean says, that exasperation dropping. "Vet says we've maybe got two weeks max before we got us a bunch of kittens. Maybe sooner. So. Get thinking of names. You want some more?"

Cas watches Dean pick up the jug of iced tea and holds his glass out for a refill, smiling as Dean comes towards him.

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Fall**

Cas takes down the last of his birthday cards several days after the event itself, lingering over Dean's with a helpless smile. _I hope your day is as nice as your butt_  is emblazoned across the front of it along with a smiley face, and inside is a long handwritten verse that is far more sentimental. Cas reads the verse over even though he's got it firmly wedged in his head, then closes the card to look at the front again. He is sure he can still feel both Dean's birthday hug that had lingered far longer than was probably necessary, and the heat to his cheeks as he'd opened the envelope.

 _"It's true. It is nice_ ," Dean had said, nodding towards the message and winking, and, Cas is sure, giving him a slow once-over. They had done that thing again where they can't seem to stop _looking_ at each other, only interrupted by Dean's friend Charlie charging in demanding her own birthday hug.

Cas likes Charlie a lot, even if every look she gives both him and Dean is full of teasing. Once or twice she has said _something_ Dean's afraid of him hearing for the yelp that follows when he pinches Charlie on the arm. But all of Dean's friends have been accepting of him, treating Cas as though he has always been a part of their group.

There haven't been many birthdays in Cas' life that have been quite as much fun as this one. Dean had organized an outing to a pizza place followed by drinks in what's become Cas' favorite bar. Even the slight weirdness Cas feels knowing now that Dean once had a brief thing with Benny has dissolved away to nothing for seeing how they are together. Cas wants to tell himself he has no right to be jealous of anyone in Dean's life, but his heart hasn't quite got the message that Dean isn't _his_.

Cas shakes his head, refusing to let in a single thought that might be maudlin. He checks the last batch of the honey cookies he's been baking with the huge jar of honey Dean had presented him with from the farmers' market, satisfied that they are ready and pulling them out to cool. He's perhaps been too ambitious, not sure if the two Tupperware boxes he has will be anywhere near enough. Though a curse from somewhere in the depths of his apartment tells him not to worry at all. He double layers some kitchen towel and lays out six of the cookies, pushing them closer to the window to cool.

"Cassie. Did you give me the smallest towel in the world on purpose?"

Cas grins to himself before spinning around, leaning back against the counter with a shrug. He bursts out laughing realizing the towel is small, even for Gabriel. At his indignant scowl, Cas reaches back for one of the cookies pinching it between his fingers, passing it to Gabriel to placate him.

"Grandma's recipe?" Gabriel asks in wonder, shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

Cas pulls a face at the noises he's making but thinks he's forgiven. "I can get you another towel."

"It's fine. I gotta get dressed. I should've hit the road an hour ago."

"I could have woken you."

Cas is surprised he hasn't, actually. The apartment isn't all that big, so it's a miracle Gabriel wasn't disturbed by his efforts baking. Gabriel has stayed with him a week opting to sleep on the couch even though Cas offered him his bed. Cas has enjoyed having Gabriel here even though he'd been dreading it in part for any conversations they would have about their family. The only discomfort Gabriel has caused him, however, is his constant innuendo about Dean.

"Give me another of those cookies and all is forgiven. And coffee. I'm gonna get dressed."

Cas passes him another two cookies without comment, putting a fresh jug of coffee on to brew. He has classes in a couple of hours and is going to Dean's for dinner, so readies himself a bag and a change of clothes for this evening.

This apartment is going to be a lot quieter without Gabriel here for company. Cas glances around at the touches of having another person here with him and won't allow himself to get too wistful. He has a busy life here, filled with more fun and freedom than he's ever experienced in the past. That he comes home to an empty apartment isn't the deal he sometimes makes it. He is neither lonely for all the friends he's made here, nor needs company at all hours.

And, if he's honest, it's because of just how much time he spends at Dean's. Most evenings he doesn't get home until it's time to sleep. There is no room in his schedule for dwelling on being _alone_.

"So," Gabriel says, making Cas startle for creeping up on him. "I gave Deano the shovel talk last night. You can thank me later."

"You did _what_?" Cas asks, not sure if he believes him, though his heart is already starting to pound.

"I just had a quiet word in his ear about how he should be treating my favorite cousin," Gabriel replies, helping himself to coffee. He jumps up on a counter making grabby hands for the cookies that Cas passes to him a daze.

"What did you say?"

"Only that for two grown men, it's a little high school to have all these heart eyes going back and forth and no actual action. It's all very Pacey and Joey. Or was it Dawson and Joey? I guess it's Dawson and Pacey, actually, in this scenario."

"Gabriel—"

"Just give me a minute," Gabriel says, scrunching up his eyes and holding his hand out to stop Cas talking. "Let me have my little Dawson's Creek slash fiction moment here, okay?"

Cas pleads with whoever is listening that Gabriel hasn't done some kind of permanent damage with Dean, turning away with a grimace at the smirk on his face.

"Okay," Gabriel says as he snaps his eyes open and leaps down from the counter. "I'm good. And leaving."

"What did you say to Dean?"

"Nothing too untoward. Don't you worry, my little Cassie," he adds, patting him on the arm as he passes. "Now. you have fun. Safe fun. Hell, not safe fun if you want; I want details."

Cas bites back a retort only for not having his words in a curt enough order, hurriedly wrapping up Gabriel's cookies and shoving them into his hands.

"For the road? Sweet."

"Message me when you are home," Cas says as he walks him to the door, adjusting the bag over Gabriel's shoulder when he whines about it getting stuck.

"Sure. Kiss Dean for me, would you?"

Cas groans, accepting Gabriel's awkward hug, telling himself it would be rude to shove him out the door.

***

_"Look."_

Cas doesn't get chance to say a word as Dean swings open his front door, grabbing him by the hand and nudging for him to tiptoe in. He barely has time to put the Tupperware box full of cookies down and take his jacket off. All the conversations he's had with Dean in his head over what Gabriel might or might not have said to him are forgotten as Dean vibrates on the spot urging him to hurry up then leads him over to the corner of the lounge.

Oracle and her six kittens are in the cutest pile, all snuggled into one another without a care in the world. If Cas checks his Instagram, he knows there will be several new updates from Dean showing exactly this image. He sneaks a look at Dean as he proudly watches the litter, sinking to his knees beside him to join in watching the sleeping pile.

"Huckleberry's getting so big," Dean whispers, pointing out the little boy who is _their_ kitten.

"They all are. It will soon be time for them to go to their new homes."

"Not yet, Cas," Dean says with pleading in his eyes, "we've got a few weeks left with 'em all, right?"

Cas smiles instead of answering, turning his gaze back to the kittens, thoroughly enchanted by just how invested in them all Dean is. He's sure Dean will be visiting each and every one of those homes both to vet them, and to check on how all the kittens are doing when they leave.

"So, I was thinking. You maybe wanna go watch something tonight?" Dean says as he gets to his feet with a slight groan.

His leg healed months ago, but he still has some residual stiffness. Cas accepts his hand to pull him up, nodding towards his leg. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good. I finished a kitchen fit this morning. Been on my hands and knees all day trying to get these goddamn tiles done right."

"Then, perhaps we should stay here so you can rest your leg."

"I already took a long bath when I got home. You're cute when you're _fussing_ ," Dean adds, patting his cheek. "C'mon, Cas. Let's live a little. Our usual burger place and whatever movie we can find to watch. My treat."

"On the condition that you allow me to drive," Cas replies, raising an eyebrow to dare Dean to argue.

"Hey. If you wanna use my leg as an excuse to drive Baby, I get it. You could just _ask_ , though, Cas. Just thought maybe you'd wanna go somewhere. We spend so much time in this house."

"I like this house," Cas argues, realizing that something is weird with Dean. He's still affectionate, teasing, and all the other things Cas has come to expect him to be on arriving, yet there is something definitely _different_ about his behavior.

"I know. I do too. But let me take you somewhere, huh? No big deal, or anything. Just us."

Cas watches the nervous squeeze of the back of Dean's neck that he does, the way he doesn't quite meet his eye. Though when he does the look he gives him is intense. It takes Cas an age to snatch his eyes away, though he couldn't say no to the hopeful smile Dean gives him even if he wanted to.

"Okay, Dean."

***

Cas isn't sure about the logic of them eating before going to the movie theater, both of them sleepy after filling their faces with food. Though they go anyway, huddling together in the lobby trying to choose a film, surprised by how cold the wind is when it gusts in through the double doors.

They decide on a rerun of the 1989 Batman, or rather Dean thinks it will be good for Cas' _education_. They are in the queue for snacks that neither one of them really needs after their dinner when Dean jolts, almost dropping the candies and pretzels stuffed in the crook of his arm.

"It's been a whole week," Jody says as she hugs them in turn, Donna doing the same before inspecting everything Dean is carrying.

"Is that _diet_ soda?" Donna asks grimacing at the two cups Cas is holding and shaking her head.

"I don't like the full sugar one."

Cas isn't sure why Dean is beaming at him in affection for his choice of _drink_ , but he nods at Cas as he looks at Donna as though he thinks Cas is _awesome_. Cas doesn't need to hear the word out loud to know he's thinking it and gives an embarrassed smile back.

Cas loves Jody and Donna. He met them first at a games night at Dean's over the summer and has seen them several times since. He sometimes runs into Donna at his favorite bakery, smiling at her self-deprecating jokes about cops and doughnuts.

"Cas made cookies," Dean says, laughing, affectionately nudging him in the arm. "Don't know how a guy who runs all the time, looks like he does, and can eat what he wants insists on diet soda."

"I simply prefer the taste," Cas replies, nudging back.

"Well, you two are just adorable," Donna announces as she looks between them, the biggest of smiles lighting up her face. "Cas. I'm so happy you moved here. Dean's been a changed man since you two got together. It's good to see such a permanent smile on his face."

The color drains from Dean's face. Cas tells his stomach it's not in knots of disappointment for Dean being repulsed at the idea of  _them_. He's glad whatever protest is on Dean's tongue doesn't get out for Jody announcing they are about to be late for their own film. Cas risks a look at Dean, his entire body sagging when Dean keeps his gaze on the floor. The walk to their screen is a silent, awkward one unlike any moment he's ever shared with Dean.

Cas thinks about leaving. Going home and building up walls he hoped he'd never need again. He is both mortified and heartbroken, cursing himself over and over in the few steps it takes to get to their seats. He wonders about offering to sit elsewhere for Dean clearly being so uncomfortable.

"Look," Dean says in a hushed whisper. "I'm sorry, Cas, okay? I never meant—I never said there was anything between us. I don't… it's not like I go around telling people stuff like that just 'cos I want it to be true, okay?"

The lights have just gone down in preparation for the commercials to begin, yet even in the limited light they have Cas can see the panic on Dean's face.

"Dean. It's fine. I never assumed that you did."

"I only wanted to take you out somewhere 'cos Gabriel said you deserved to be spoiled a little. I mean it's true, you _do_. And this crappy theater and burgers isn't all that much _spoiling_ , but—"

"Dean—"

"I just wanted to do something different, you know? If I'd known Jody and Donna were here—were gonna say stuff like that—"

" _Dean_ —"

"Don't be mad at me, Cas," Dean pleads. "I'd never… I mean I'd _never_ like… force myself on you, or anything. I'm good with us taking our time."

Cas blinks, replaying Dean's words a couple of times before they form in an order that he understands. "Taking our time?"

"Well. Yeah, Cas," Dean says, turning a little more in his seat. "I mean. I know I said about Oracle and Huckleberry being _ours_. And that we do just about everything together. But that doesn't mean I'd rush you into anything you weren't ready for. I'm good with the way things are between us."

The knotting in Cas' stomach changes from one of disappointment to one of nervous excitement, hoping that he's not misinterpreting Dean's thoughts. He thinks about all the time they spend together, the easy affection they share whether they are in company or on their own. The way they hug goodbye every time Cas leaves Dean's house, and how no matter what is happening, Dean is the first person Cas thinks to call.

"Because we are taking things slowly. _Dating_ ," he says, arguing with himself not to get his hopes up or get things so very wrong.

"Well," Dean says, offering him a nervous smile as he leans against him. "You can call it _dating_ if you want, Cas. But it's… that sounds way more temporary than I like. And it's not like I've got any interest in being with anybody else. I'm kind of a one person at a time kind of guy. And I'm… yours. If you want."

Cas blinks again, feeling his face split into a smile. "I want."

"Then. Can we just watch this movie and forget that I'm blushing like an idjit?" Dean asks, laughing.

Cas nudges him back, and after he's overthought it all the way through the commercials and the first few scenes of the movie, reaches out to curl his hand through Dean's in his lap.

***

"Wha—"

Cas silences Dean with a kiss as he backs him up against the Impala, curling his fingers around the lapels of his jacket. Dean sweeps greedy hands over Cas' back and pulls him closer, kissing him back just as hard. Cas shuffles closer still, forgetting the movie they just watched, the parking lot they're stood in, and everything else. He is determined to savor this kiss, and Dean's warmth, knowing he'll chide himself later for being so foolish. For not understanding what has been developing between them all these months.

"You remember a single thing we saw in that movie, Cas?" Dean asks when they break apart, breathless and leaning on one another.

"No."

"Nothing?"

"Only thinking about how badly I wanted it to finish so that I could do this," Cas says, smiling before leaning in to kiss him again.

***

**Winter**

"What're you reading?" Dean asks, nuzzling against Cas' shoulder as he sits back down on the couch.

"My tenancy agreement," Cas replies as he accepts his kisses, swirling his thumb over the slight redness of Dean's knuckles. "Thank you for fixing the faucet."

"My pleasure. Not like I don't know every single thing wrong with the place. And besides. It's quicker than asking the landlord of this place to do a damn thing."

Cas hums in agreement, distracted from his place on the page as Dean turns his head to ask for another kiss. At times it's impossible to concentrate on anything but Dean, Cas pushing the letter to the floor beside them as he pulls Dean closer. "Still. I should thank you properly."

"Oh. You can thank me any way you want," Dean replies, nudging Cas until they're sprawled out the length of the couch. It isn't the smoothest of moves for them, so used to the larger size of Dean's couch that Cas almost ends up on the floor for misjudging the space.

Dean keeps him from slipping, grinning as Cas adjusts in his arms. "You okay there?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you can thank me by not breaking a limb or something, huh, Cas?" 

"I will do my best."

"So," Dean says, gripping his waist as he reaches for the letter Cas had been reading. "You said this was a tenancy agreement?"

"Yes. My lease is up in a month."

Dean nods, glancing the paperwork over before dropping it back to the floor and tucking his hands into Cas' jean pockets. "You like it here?"

"It is… sufficient for my needs."

It's true. The apartment still has the same adequate space for his yoga, and enough light on the rare occasions he works from home. Cleaning is kept to an absolute minimum since he spends so much more time at Dean's than he does here. In fact, Cas thinks, the only thing he regularly does here that he doesn't do at Dean's is his laundry.

"That's… not a glowing assessment of the place," Dean says in tease, preventing Cas from answering by kissing him again.

"That is what it is," Cas says when he pulls back.

"Well," Dean says, darting his eyes away from Cas and then apparently forcing himself to look at him. "I mean, you could _not_ renew."

"My lease?"

"Yeah."

Cas is curious for the sudden doubt that creeps across Dean's face, enough to pull back so he can look at him properly. "Why?"

"Well," Dean says again, squeezing his waist. "It's just that… I mean, you and me, we've been… _dating_ , for almost a year now."

Cas grins at Dean's words, forever entertained by the _disdain_ Dean has for that particular word. "True."

"And you spend so much time at my place, it's like you live there already. Half my closet's full of your shirts. The desk I made for the corner of the lounge you practically claimed for _working_. And we've got Oracle, and Huckleberry. Kinda makes sense if you just… make it official."

"Official?" Cas asks, his heart beginning to flutter in excitement.

"Yeah, doofus," Dean says in mock exasperation as he kisses him. "Just… move in with me, Cas, would you? We could pack up the Impala right this minute and have all your stuff unpacked tonight."

This is not what Cas had pictured for himself just a year ago. He had never imagined moving here and finding everything he wants. He has a job he loves, a great circle of friends, and not one, but two cats. As well as an adoring boyfriend who seems just as enamored with him as he is with Dean.

Yet this is his life now. And for once in his life, Cas is determined to truly seize the moment instead of overthinking and making plans.

"Then, let's pack."

"Seriously?" Dean says, gripping him tighter, looking so pleased Cas isn't sure if he's about to laugh or cry.

"Yes," he says, kissing him again. "Though. Perhaps in a few minutes."


End file.
